“I’m still looking,” I said, flustered.
“It’s been hours. It’s too late now.”
“But. . .”
I jerked up, soaked in a cold sweat. Even in the darkness, I could tell I wasn’t in my own bed. Jumping to my feet, I took in my surroundings in a panic before the past two days came slamming back into me.
“The show,” I whispered, clutching my chest.
Sitting back on the bed, I concentrated on taking deep breaths, willing my rapid heartbeat to slow. Once I had successfully calmed myself down, I remembered what had woken me up in such a panic in the first place.
I could never rid myself of these intrusive nightmares. And yes, I called them nightmares. Because even though nothing scary took place, my body’s visceral reaction was the same as if I had just fallen off the edge of a cliff. When I started having to sleep without Michael, I had gotten them almost nightly. We were always going somewhere or trying to leave for something, although I was never quite sure where. And I never found out, because we never made it.
The pillow behind my head felt too plush and the scent was unfamiliar. The alarm clock by the side of my bed informed me it was only three a.m. I stared at the ceiling, already knowing I wouldn’t be falling back asleep. Especially not with the looming uncertainty of tomorrow’s first challenge weighing heavily on my mind.
During my interview yesterday, they had asked me a dozen times how I was feeling. They were clearly trying to get aspecific answer out of me, but I apparently wasn’t providing it. Part of me just wanted a script, so I could do exactly what they wanted and get out of there as quickly as possible.
A familiar burning sensation stung behind my eyes, and I blinked rapidly to soothe it away. I’d have to see my fellow castmates for breakfast first thing in the morning. I refused to be the girl with perpetually red-rimmed eyes that nobody asked about, but everybody pitied.
“You’re goingto do great today,” Brady chirped, all too cheerful as he led me to the dining room that was through a short hallway just off the main lounge.
“Um, is this just breakfast, or is this part of the show?” I asked, hoping to at least have a peaceful morning.
Brady chuckled. “Everything is part of the show. Sure, there will be competitions, but the conversations and relationships with the other contestants are what viewers want to see.”
Meaning every movement I made would be watched.
Great.
“Relax, everyone is going to love you,” Brady insisted.
Only if everyone didn’t mind a contestant whose whole personality screamed stiff and uncomfortable.
Right before we entered the dining room, he spun me around and tugged some of my hair from behind my back, pulling it forward. They had begged me to wear it down this morning, and since I clearly wouldn’t be writing today, I figured I’d let them win this battle.
“Perfect,” Brady said before stepping back and pointing to the entryway. “Go get ‘em.”
I stepped through the door. A long wood table was in themiddle of the room, with four chairs on either side. All four guys were already seated. I was the first of the girls to arrive.
“Morning,” I said.
They all said their hellos.
“How did you sleep?” Eli asked.
“As well as can be expected,” I said, walking around the table.
Each guy had a seat open next to him. By the way Eli nodded at the chair to his left, I got the sense he wanted me to join him. But as soon as Arnie waved, my anxiety melted away. I pulled out the chair next to him and sat down.
“I slept like shit,” he whispered.
I laughed and turned toward him. “Same. I’ve been up since three.”
“You might have gotten an hour more than me,” he said. “I kept convincing myself the challenge today would be something horrendous, like facing a pit of snakes or something.”
Covering my mouth, I laughed at the visual of Arnie battling a pit of vipers. When I looked up, Eli was staring at me and frowning. I hastily turned my attention back to Arnie. The clear disappointment in Eli’s face must have been my imagination. Why would he care if I sat next to him? We had barely spoken for fifteen minutes yesterday.
“We’d be lucky if it were snakes,” Danny grumbled. “It’s going to be a hell of a lot worse than that.”
